


Bananas and India

by salienne



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-04
Updated: 2008-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salienne/pseuds/salienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Anyone ever tell you you have an obsession?" she said, before he could start a monologue about bananas and potassium and yellow fruits in general and probably about chinchillas and Elvis too. "Like, an unhealthy one. A seriously unhealthy obsession with bananas."</i></p><p>The Doctor and Rose visit a banana grove.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bananas and India

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [](http://hippiebanana132.livejournal.com/profile)[**hippiebanana132**](http://hippiebanana132.livejournal.com/) for betaing!
> 
> This is a late Christmas/New Year/holidays in general pressie for [](http://lunaserenade.livejournal.com/profile)[**lunaserenade**](http://lunaserenade.livejournal.com/). It’s basically entirely FWP: fluff without plot. Enjoy! :D

“I can’t believe you.”

Shaking her head, Rose fell back against the doors of the TARDIS, wishing, not for the first time, that the Doctor wasn’t a 5-year-old in a 900-year-old alien’s body.

“What?” the Doctor asked, a slight whine in his voice. “I thought you’d like it.”

“It’s a banana grove.”

He said nothing, merely shifted his weight from foot to foot like some little boy pretending he could be patient.

“You took me to a banana grove.”

“What’s wrong with banana groves? Bananas are good, Rose.”

“So I’ve heard.”

He waited, hands in pockets and eyebrows up in expectation. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he grabbed her hand and pulled her dashing over leaves and bugs and roots through the—well, the bananas. The banana _trees_. They had landed in a tiny circular clearing, but as she gazed around, she could see nothing but the Doctor’s favorite plant. They were surrounded by acres and acres of what looked like really tall, thin palm trees with paper bags and old leaves stuck to their trunks. Some were greener than others, and some held red and pink flowers or flower buds. Every once in a while, there was a flash of blue, and peeking into the shade, she found herself wondering if maybe these were alien bananas after all.

Rose sighed and stepped forward, sticking out her hand. With a grin, he took it, and the two set off.

“Anyone ever tell you you have an obsession?” she said, before he could start a monologue about bananas and potassium and yellow fruits in general and probably about chinchillas and Elvis too. “Like, an unhealthy one. A seriously unhealthy obsession with bananas.”

“Now tell me,” he replied, “what could possibly be unhealthy about a perfectly normal interest in bananas? Not an obsession, mind you. An _interest_ , a liking, an appreciation.” He outlined this last word with his free hand, and despite herself, Rose felt a smile coming on. Here he went again.

“Bananas are brilliant, Earth’s first fruits. You know there are more than 500 varieties of banana? You lot though, you’re only interested in one: Dwarf Cavendish, all sweet and curved and… yellow. Well, not for long, not with TR4 and turn-of-the-century diets, but for now that’s what you’ve got.”

They had moved several feet away from the TARDIS now, and with his free hand, the Doctor pointed somewhere to Rose’s right. Squinting against the sun, she followed his finger to what looked like a full blue trash bag hanging off a branch several feet above their heads.

“ _That_ is a cluster of bananas, otherwise known as a collection of _hands_.” He wiggled his fingers in front of her face, and she couldn’t help but giggle before swatting him away. “See, when bananas start growing, they look like little fingers, reaching up to grab the air. So a bunch of bananas…”

Together, Rose and the Doctor finished the sentence. “…Is a hand.”

Laughing, she leaned into his side and squeezed his hand. His fingers tightened around hers in response.

Once she had calmed down, she said, “So they wrap up the _hands_ in big blue bags? What, is that so bugs won’t get in?”

“Yup,” he replied, popping the ‘p.’ “That bag’s coated in pesticides, probably some sort of mix of pyrethroid, microbrial and repellants. No way to tell the exact composition from down here.”

From the vague longing on his face, Rose could tell he wanted to climb up there and lick one of the bags. With a barely restrained sigh, she tugged on his hand, and they began moving forward again. “So where are we?” she asked. “What place, what year?”

“Suchindram, India, 2016. March 13th, to be precise. Mind you, thought it’d be hotter. Or maybe that’s the 15th.”

For a moment, they kept walking in silence. Beneath their feet, dead leaves crinkled, and somewhere off in the distance, a bird called out. The air was so thick Rose felt like it was clinging to her skin, and when she breathed in, she was assaulted by the smell of plants and mulch and what she fancied to be an undercurrent of something sweet, something banana-y.

India. They were in _India_. Spices and turbans and Buddha and Aladdin. Or was that Arabia? Arabian Nights and all that.

Oh, who cared? They were in India!

It was at this point that Rose stopped. She had been playing with one of her hoop earrings, and her fingers fell, slowly, to her side. Stunned, she looked at the Doctor.

She burst into laughter.

He stared. “What?”

She tried to answer, really she did, but every flash of his face just reminded her of the absurdity of the situation. Every time she spotted narrowed eyes or an open mouth, the Doctor’s wild hair or his long coat, she just bent over further, laughed harder. Deep breaths, deep breaths, closed eyes. She gasped in air. “Only you…” Another round of guffaws and she pressed one hand to her stomach, trying to quiet herself. “Only you would take me to the future, to _India_ , and take me to look at bananas.”

Rose couldn’t help a fresh peal of laughter from escaping, and now that the Doctor knew what exactly was causing her hysterics, all signs of confusion or concern left his face. When she finally regained control of herself, the corners of his lips were upturned and his eyebrows were raised. He held out his hand and she took it, walking with him once more. Every once in a while, another giggle escaped, but soon enough, she found herself capable of just breathing for several minutes at a time.

Then the Doctor spoke. “India is the number one provider of bananas worldwide, you know.” Still grinning, she nodded, and he continued. “It’s not like I just looked at a map and thought-”

“I love it.” He turned his head to look at her, the space between his eyebrows crinkled in the smallest show of disbelief. She wondered if he allowed himself to hope. “Honestly, bananas, banana trees, India, I love all of it.”

For a long moment, their eyes met. Hazel and brown, mascara and plain old eyelids and eyelashes, Rose and the Doctor. A silent understanding passed between them then, a silent recognition of just what was being left unsaid. Like so many things between them, like the way their hands gravitated toward one another or the reason why Mickey had left, it remained unspoken. But they knew, and this was the first time in a while that Rose had come close to acknowledging that bond.

Finally, the Doctor smiled. “They’re not really trees.”

Again, she grinned. “Then what are they?”

“Plants. Just… plants. A bit like onions, actually, with all these leaves all stacked up on top of one another. The end result just tastes better.”

Another moment, another met glance. She turned to look ahead. “So come on then, tell me about the rest of this place.”

Together they walked, and he did.


End file.
